To Discern One's Priorities
by L. Century
Summary: Written to satisfy two different Cheeky Monkey Challenges. Commander Victoria Cousland reflects on what is important in her life and how she feels about a certain other Grey Warden.


"You know when you make that face, Sigrun, it reminds me of Branka," Oghren said.

"Thanks. I'll remember never to make that face again," the usually peppy dwarf replied, irritated at being compared yet again to the man's ex-wife.

"Must you always spit out food when you talk, Oghren? Can't you chew, swallow, then talk like the rest of us?" Nathaniel asked.

"I'll have you know…"

She tuned it all out. Normally Victoria enjoyed the antics of her Grey Wardens in the mess hall, but tonight she was preoccupied.

Unknown to anyone else in the Keep but the Warden Commander, Vigil's Keep may very soon no longer be their home. The First Warden of the Greys had sent her a letter wanting the Keep returned to nobility, saying the Grey Wardens should have never become involved in politics. He reminded her that the Wardens had Soldiers Peak, and it was likely where they would all be restationed.

But what the First Warden didn't realize was that Victoria Cousland could play dirty when the situation required it of her. She wrote to Anora of the situation, full well knowing she would intercede the First Warden on her behalf. The Wardens gave Amaranthine stability and in a post-Blight country still trying to recover from the ravages of war, the slightest shift could overturn the whole apple cart. The Howes had been stripped of land and title, and to allow nobles to fight for the Arling would strain an already tenuous situation. It didn't matter that Anora had ruled the country from the moment she married Cailan. People held her personally responsible for ending the Calenhad blood line between her father's damning actions, and her barren womb. Every time she took three steps forward, Anora always felt she would be forced to take four steps backwards.

Victoria knew this and wasn't above using it to her advantage. She wasn't giving up her Keep without a fight. She had won this fortress through blood, sweat, and tears. This was the place where she had found her voice. Vigil's Keep was the first place that she was Commander of the Grey Wardens here in Ferelden not by default, but by being elevated to the position. Victoria realized during the Blight she enjoyed having men and women under her command, and wasn't bothered in the least by making the hard decisions.

Her whole life she had felt different. While girls were busy with tea parties and learning to embroider, she was busy manipulating her father's guards into letting her hold their sword and shield. It never failed to surprise her just how far batted eyelashes could take her. During her adolescence, the other noble women were focused intently on securing themselves a husband, while she was off reading military strategy books. She often wondered what was wrong with her.

But here in Vigil's Keep, she had earned the respect of every man and women here, even those twice her age. She couldn't lie, it was a thrilling high. Here she was called Commander Victoria, not Lady Victoria.

Commander Victoria Cousland.

She earned the title that sat right before her name, and that gave her an endless amount of pride. It was her forefathers that had earned her the title Lady; she had never done anything particularly remarkable to earn it. It was here in Amaranthine that she finally felt her choice of lifestyle was not only accepted, but welcomed.

Alistair was the only one who ever understood how she felt. Prince Alistair, depending on who you asked was either a name that garnished him bows or sneers. To Alistair it wasn't just a title he felt he did nothing to achieve, but it was a burden as well. In Alistair's mind, no one forgot to mentally add _'bastard' _before prince.

As soon as she learned of his heritage and they spoke together, they came to an understanding. He would never call her lady, and she would never call him prince. They were both Wardens, titles they worked hard to feel worthy of. When Eamon had begun talking of Alistair taking up the throne, it took only one look in his direction to already know the answer. It was the same as the whispers that existed of her becoming teryna over her brother. She didn't desire the position, and secretly was thankful that Fergus was the older sibling. They were born into these positions and the world placed expectations on them, but it wasn't who they were. Alistair and Victoria were warriors, not diplomats. They didn't want to sign treaties and reach peaceful accords; they wanted to feel the blood in their veins on fire and the world coming into sharp focus a few seconds before the swing of their blade. In the heat of battle, that's where they belonged.

_Alistair._

She internally groaned as she thought his name. Hadn't she thought of him enough? Wasn't this part of the conundrum she was now faced with?

Victoria could feel his eyes on her as she played with her food. She realized maybe that groan wasn't so internal, after all.

She sighed, her mind returning back to her original dilemma. The final decision of Vigil's Keep would be coming soon. She felt the tingling in her blood, that instinct that always told her to duck at just the right moment before a blade could swipe her head off. She was anxiously awaiting the other shoe to drop. The dread and fear of waiting was making her a little tense.

To exacerbate her already querulous mood, two weeks ago she began to have these _feelings._

_When she woke up that morning, it had seemed like any other day. Victoria walked out to the mess hall for breakfast still in her pajamas. She was incapable of putting her armor on before a cup of tea. The commander had never cared much for propriety, and nearly everyone at that Keep had seen her in less at some point or another. They were all family, all connected by the taint._

_She covered her mouth as a loud yawn escaped, and padded over to sit next to Alistair. She knew that when she sat down, he'd have a bowl of oatmeal waiting and a cup of tea. It was their routine, and again, this day should have been no day different than the ones before._

"_Hey, sunshine," he said with a wink, and she gave an incoherent groan as her response. It was the same interaction as any other day._

_She grabbed the tea, beginning to slowly sip the still hot liquid as her mind began to defog. Alistair was laughing as he flung a spoonful of porridge at Sigrun because of something she said (Victoria had missed that part.)_

_She retaliated by picking up the entire bowl and flinging it towards the warrior. He had quick reflexes and shifted quickly to the right as the bowl went flying past his head. Because of his stature, and the quickness of his move, Alistair had crashed right into Victoria, her tea spilling out everywhere burning her hand and arm, as she was sent flying off the end of the bench onto the floor._

_Shocked to now be on the ground sans tea, she looked up to see Alistair staring down laughing._

_She should have been furious, embarrassed, oh there was a long list of adjectives she could very well have been feeling._

_But when she looked up at his face, his hazel eyes dancing with mirth while he was laughing at her, mind you, she felt a strange nervousness. It was the oddest feeling, like pre-war jitters, and a tightly wound coil had moved into her lower abdomen. Suddenly, the room was on fire, she was sure of it, and she jumped up from the ground, not bothering with the mess, and fled in the direction of her room._

_She could hear from behind her Sigrun and Alistair both yelling their apologies and for her to come back. Victoria couldn't run fast enough to put enough distance between her and them. But Alistair was fast, surprisingly so, for a man of his size, and he caught up to her in her room. _

_Damn him._

_Didn't he understand that a woman wanted to be left alone when she was sorting through an epiphany?_

_She was afraid to look up at him, afraid of what she'd feel this time._

"_Victoria, I'm really sorry. It was an accident, honestly. I'll make it up to you," she heard him say as she listened to the sound of his boots stepping closer to him._

"_I'm fine, really. I just want to get dressed. That's all," she said with her arms crossed staring at the floor._

_But he was still stepping closer and she instinctively looked up to see how far the danger was from her, as if suddenly she was about to begin combat._

_His face was filled with concern as he stared at her, and she felt it again that coil in her stomach. _

_Maker, help her. What in the Void was going on?_

_She grabbed the bedpost to pull her up onto the bed, and in two leaps, she found herself on the other side of the room. _

_She turned and the concern he had been displaying on his face was now outright confusion._

_But seeing Alistair in her bedroom, next to her bed…._

_The room was on fire again and was she licking her lips?_

_His eyebrow rose. "Are you alright?"_

_She wished she knew the answer to that question herself. She'd laugh at the absurdity of the situation if she wasn't near tears._

_She needed to say something though to keep this situation from growing wildly out of control. What could she say? A half-truth sounded good._

"_I apologize, Alistair. I'm just a little out of sorts this week. It's the anniversary of my parent's death," she said looking just a little to the left of him._

_She realized too late that it was the wrong half-truth to tell, because Alistair was already almost to the other side of the room with his arms outstretched. When did his legs get so long?_

_But as she backed up, she realized she was cornered in her room._

"_I'm so sorry, Vicky, I completely forgot. How thoughtless of me."_

_His words sounded like a gentle caress, and his nickname for her, one that never bothered her in the past, suddenly sounded…..intimate._

_She was gasping for air, (Who suddenly was sucking it all out of the room?) as she felt her back slam into the wall. _

_Yup, she was completely cornered._

_It was too late. With those damn long legs of his and that absurdly fast walk he had, his arms were already around her pulling her into a tight embrace._

_Those large, strong, callused hands that had touched her hundreds of times before now sent lightning bolts through her entire body._

_So now, he had turned into a mage. Just wonderful._

_There was nothing she could do and for a small second she wondered if she really could just go up in flames._

_But he squeezed her tighter, and she suddenly found her face buried in the crook of his neck. It was the same soap he always used, eucalyptus scented. Normally she found the scent comforting the same way she would when as a child walk into the castle and hear her mother call out to her, no matter where the woman was in the castle. Both made her sigh in contentment, a strange safety net of sorts._

_But, today this scent was…intoxicating._

_She pushed away from him again as quickly as she could, and saw hurt quickly flash over his face. He stepped back before saying, "I'll go get you another tea." He turned walking out the door, and Victoria slumped against the wall, letting it bear her weight. The guilt began to sink in at knowing she had hurt him. _

_She looked back at her bed. Maybe if she just crawled inside and went to sleep, when she woke up everything would be back to normal. She started to move towards the bed and pulled the covers back. It was certainly worth a try. _

…

Two weeks later as she sat there in the mess hall, her fork now stabbing at her turkey, it still hadn't been successful.

Alistair had been distant too, but she would catch him looking at her from the corner of his eye now and again.

What a mess.

The worst part was she missed the closeness with her best friend. She knew that whatever was happening to her whenever she looked at him was threatening to take all of that away from her.

The Keep. Alistair. Her Wardens. Her parents. They were trying to take it all away from her.

Her foot was nervously tapping under the table.

"Commander, is the food not to your liking?"

"Huh?" Victoria looked up to realize Captain Garavel was intently staring at her.

"Oh, I apologize. The food is delicious," she replied.

"I ask because normally you'd already be on your second helping," he said, looking down at her plate.

She looked down as well realizing she was playing with her food. She hadn't eaten a bite.

"No, I'm fine. I just need some air," Victoria said, pushing her chair away from the table to stand up.

She could feel all their eyes on her. "No, really I'm fine. Please continue eating."

She walked over to the double doors that led to the balcony. As she closed the doors behind her, she walked over to the railing. It was a beautiful night, not a cloud in the sky, and the stars were all out to play. The moon hung high casting a beautiful ethereal glow on the waves below. It was low tide and the waves of the sea were gently lapping against the rocks below. Out here, the calmness was beginning to affect her disquieted mind.

Nothing was going to be solved if she kept on this way.

First, she needed to figure out exactly how she felt about Vigil's Keep. She was attached to it, yes, that much was clear.

It had been with hard earned money and supplies she had found that fortified this crumbling fortress. It had also been her command that allowed it to be torn down, as she decided to save the city of Amaranthine and the people in it. Because of her word, the Wardens now only used half of the building, the other side still in constant repair.

But maybe she was attached to it out of the sick satisfaction she felt knowing she had taken it from Howe after slitting his traitorous throat. That was a thought she told no one, afraid it would get back to Nathaniel. She didn't hold against him what his father hadn't done, but it didn't mean she hadn't enjoyed every second of watching the life drain out of the man while cursing him to the Void.

She never realized she was such a control freak before, and maybe this building wasn't the best place for her to be in if she wanted to heal and move on.

But she looked back through the doors to the people sitting at the table, and she knew she was attached to them, one in particular more than the others. Victoria could see Alistair out of the corner his eye looking at the doors, and she knew him long enough to realize he was contemplating whether he should come out or not.

Why hadn't she felt this way before?

When her parents died and she became a Grey Warden, the year had been miserable.

The country had become a barren wasteland and she couldn't remember how many villages she had passed by where the people were crying, starved because the crops had all died from the taint. It was day in and day out of either dealing with their own grueling conditions, or watching the suffering of others, helpless to stop it.

No one had ever told her how long was an acceptable amount of time to grieve for loved ones, but as the Archdemon lie dead, and she claimed a hero, she knew in her heart she was nowhere near done.

Alistair had been her rock throughout the time and had become her best friend. He made the time in between bearable, sparring with her, helping her with her dreams, and every other frightening thing that was happening inside her body as the taint began to take hold.

And then there was the night she came to him with the request.

When she told him about Morrigan's ritual he had paced the room like a maniac. But as she continued on with the argument of why this was sound- ensuring the Grey Wardens ended this battle in one year not eighty, he looked up at her.

The fear in his eyes was unmistakable as he regarded her. Afraid she was losing the argument, she got down on her hands and knees, abandoning her pride and begged. She didn't know what idea frightened her more, that he could die, or that she could. If she died, then she'd be dead, and though she didn't feel ready for her life to be over, of the two choices, she could deal with that one the best. But the thought of him dying….no, that couldn't be.

She needed him, like she needed air. Where would she be without her rock?

He had nodded his head, his only reply, "For you."

It was as though the weight of the world lifted off her shoulders. His eyes lingered on her face seeming to study her features. Then his gaze softened regarding her as he looked at her with the look of…..

How had she not realized this sooner?

She looked back through the double doors at the man who was still staring at the door, still contemplating what he should do.

What a fool she had been.

Then another frightening thought came through her mind. What if they sent her and Alistair to different locations? What if the First Warden was to command Alistair to be under another leader in another country? She had been so frightened thinking about her feelings threatening to take him away she hadn't even thought of the possibility of him physically being taken away from her. What bargaining chip did she have then?

As she watched him begin ever so slightly gnawing on his lower lip, she realized that to stay with him she might have to step down from her position.

If she was no long commander, she didn't care what the First Warden said, Victoria would follow that man anywhere. Even if she didn't have the title of commander before her name, the corruption in her blood still made her a Warden. They could never take that from her.

As she stood there, turning back towards the serene setting before her, she realized that she had just solved in a manner of minutes questions she had been unable to in weeks. If she lost the Keep and the position, the sting would hurt for a while. But if she lost him, she wouldn't know how to breathe.

Maybe it was time to tell him of these things.

Victoria made her way back to the double doors walking inside, and took a quick look around their mesh hall, formerly their main hall. The golem shell, the mounted dragon head, the paintings done of her as Warden Commander, all of her accomplishments decorated the walls reminding her of how far she had come.

Hmm. A shame she'd probably be unable to take these items with her.

She walked over to Alistair, crouching down to be eye level. Moving in closer, she whispered, "Can we speak privately?"

When he pulled back to look at her she could see he was still hurt from their recent distance. But as he searched her face, she tried to put as much warmth and love into her expression as he had the night he saved her life. His expression softened and he nodded his head, following her as she stood up and walked towards her bedroom.

As she began walking down the long corridor to her bedroom, she knew what she had to do.

Now she just needed to find the words.

A/N: This was done for a Cheeky Monkey Challenge by Eva Galana. The only specifics for this challenge are: 1. There has to be a happy ending (Alistair with his Warden love). 2. Alistair is NOT King.

I also believe this satisfies my own Challenge called A Home Is... where the character needed to discuss what his/her home was to them.

Please Enjoy!


End file.
